Fashion Week: One for the Money, Two for the Show; On Seventh Ave., the Buzz, the Ropes and the Seams

If every Seventh Avenue building is a hive of activity before Fashion Week, then 550 Seventh Avenue is certainly the home of the queen bees. Michael Kors has his studio there. So do Donna Karan and Oscar de la Renta. But just because everyone is working in close proximity doesn't mean that anyone knows the buzz.

''In Paris, you find out much more what other designers are doing,'' said Mr. de la Renta, who also designs for Balmain. ''You find out because everyone is using the same embroidery and leather people, and they are constantly going around to the houses.''

Mr. de la Renta was up in his studio late last week with John Nickleson, his chief assistant of many years, and Laura Montalban, who used to be with Bill Blass, and they were scrutinizing a red-striped gown for Mr. de la Renta's women's wear show on Sept. 19 at 11 a.m. Just then, Michael Barber, whose company does leatherwork and embroidery, popped in with a sample of white lace-cut leather, which caused everyone to swoon.

''In Paris, there are 50 Michaels, but he's the only one here,'' Mr. de la Renta said. But this also puts Mr. Barber in a tricky spot. As Mr. de la Renta said, ''When I saw last year that Ralph Lauren was doing the exact same skirt that I was, I said, 'Michael, how could you do this to me?' ''

John Bartlett swiveled around in his chair in his studio on West 15th Street and faced the inspiration board for his spring collection, a collage of images that ranged from Marlene Dietrich in mannish pants to fetishistic displays of knot work. Mr. Bartlett was in Japan this year, and that is where he got the idea of rope -- as a print, as a rustic corset and, of course, as a taboo object.

Japan is not all that far afield for him, but this time it seems a particularly private head trip. After ending his financial relationship with the Italian company that makes Byblos, which he also designed, Mr. Bartlett is on his own.

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''Those three years just about took it out of me, creatively,'' he said. And he was unable to close a deal with the Pegasus Apparel Group, a new backer of small and medium-size American labels, saying that for him the issue was control. So for now, Mr Bartlett is in that place called Exploring My Options. And it's interesting, said Mr. Bartlett, who will show his spring collection on Sept. 21 at 7 p.m., ''I've been able to get back in touch with my gut.''

Back up on Seventh Avenue, just north of 550, Ralph Rucci was in his workroom going over details with a seamstress. It is no joke to say that Mr. Rucci makes the kind of clothes that could be worn inside out. He is a fanatic about perfect seams, and seams in general. Daniel Storto, a Toronto glove maker who does for hands what Manolo Blahnik does for feet, said by fax (he was on his way to Antwerp to bring gloves to Dries van Noten) that Mr. Rucci would have made a good surgeon. The white leather gloves Mr. Storto designed for Mr. Rucci's show (Sept. 22 at 12 p.m.) feature a curving seam from midarm to palm.

Such details, clearly, keep Mr. Rucci up at night. One of the fabrics he is using for spring is a quadruple-weight cotton gazar made in the 1950's for Balenciaga. How does a person know about such a thing? Mr. Rucci laughed wearily. ''Are you kidding?'' he replied.

One could say that the flat on West 81st Street where Josh Patner and Bryan Bradley of Tuleh work is a little like the one in ''The Apartment,'' the 1960 movie that starred Shirley MacLaine and Jack Lemmon. People are constantly coming and going, and while Mr. Patner does not whip up spaghetti with a tennis racket, he certainly has some of Mr. Lemmon's charm. ''Would you like some?'' he asked, offering an open box of Oreo cereal.

Last Friday, they were casting their show (Sept. 22 at 9 a.m.), and as a model wearing one of their lavender print dresses took a few paces, Mr. Patner said: ''You're adorable. I wish that there were 25 of you.''

Not missing a beat, she said, ''I don't.''

Mr. Patner laughed and reached for the cereal. This has been a big year for the designers, who passed the $1 million sales mark with the fall season. They describe their spring collection as ''amusing but not silly,'' and seem to have acquired, along with a belief in the superiority of American dressmaking, a distinctly grown-up view of growth. ''Money is essential, obviously,'' Mr. Patner said. ''But there's a growth rate that's appropriate for the situation. We don't need to be a name-brand business in the first five minutes of life.''